


I'll carry you home tonight

by gustin_puckerman



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, One Shot, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gustin_puckerman/pseuds/gustin_puckerman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She thinks she knows why she comes here. To his room. Maybe it's because he's the only one who knows. ― Fitz/Skye. Post 2x11 "Aftershocks".</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll carry you home tonight

 

Nobody could sleep.

No, not really. They try to. That much, at least, Skye could confirm on. (There's a thudding somewhere in her head that pounds for _Daisy, Daisy, Daisy_ , but she's learnt to keep those voices down and her head straight on what matters now.) But she doesn't see any of them lounging about.

Sure, she hears May's constant beating against the punching bag between minutes. And clutters of Mack's stuff as it's dumped together, creating internal chaos. But mostly―they keep it all to themselves, you know?

She gets it.

They're a team and all. But, Coulson's right―everybody's got a way to deal with stuff. And all of them do in fact need their privacies. She understands that.

Maybe when her feet shifts, the decision's made and the door slides, _this_ is her way of coping.

"S-Skye?"

The tone that he lets out is a surprise one. But there's also fear. (She hates that one the most.) Before it resolves into a questioning expression, all of which tugs his brow and the lines on his face like it always does; calculating eyes staring into her figure that's just standing there, arms folded like she'll fall if they aren't. And there's a moment in herself that croon on the fact she's right. Fitz doesn't sleep. But that's always been known.

(It's still a surprise to everyone really on how he never fail to go to bed every night anyway. Just to _try_.)

She thinks she knows why she comes here. To his room. But no, not really. Maybe it's because he's the only one who knows. Or maybe it's because she remembers the way his eyes glint and promises, his words dripping in a vow that she can't erase― _keep you safe_ ―or maybe that she can't get rid of his voice, not even with Rihanna or Beyonce or Hozier.

"I just―" She tries keeping it cool, keeps her voice steady; no, she doesn't want to break. Not right here. Not right now. And he doesn't deserve it. But she could feel the crack―estimates it, loathes it―and reminds herself that she's no longer that child hacktivist trying to rebel against the system. She's an agent now.

A... something _more_.

(Isn't she supposed to be stronger?)

"I can't sleep," she finally decides to say, still locking her gaze away while keeping her arms even tighter around herself. He shuffles around the bed, unsure, but not a lot, as though processing her words very, extremely slowly. And she's not surprised if he truly is.

It doesn't matter. She'll wait.

(Or she'll go. Whichever.)

"Y-yeah?" He asks, slowly, bright eyes resting on her.

She swallows.

"I'm―" _scared_. And she is, a lot. But she's not about to say that. She does look at him though, identifies some kind of flicker of recognition in his gaze before he nods firmly, a shadow of what he once was emerges confidently. "I just―" She shakes her head, "You know, I just don't think I can be alone. Right now. I'm―I keep _thinking_ , and... uh... well, my brain hurts. So, I just."

He stares at her for a long while, blinking once, then twice. His mouth gapes more in surprise rather than a form to reply and Skye shrinks a little, rethinking that maybe this might not be her best idea.

She takes a deep breath still though. "I don't―" She tries telling him, "I'm so _confused_."

"I get it."

She looks at him.

"Skye," her name suddenly sounds like a prayer; he continues, "It's okay."

"It's not," she shakes her head again, this time maintaining eye-contact and her chest trembles before her voice follows suit. "I'm―I don't know what to _do_ , Fitz."

"Skye, I get it."

"I'm so―"

"Do you, uh..." He looks around, begins fidgeting now. "If, um, if you'd like, of course, you could always uh, stay. Here. I meant, stay here. With me. Tonight. Only, I mean, but only for tonight. If you want. Yeah, if―if you want." He tries smiling and Skye can't help but to smile back (he looks shy. He looks familiar.) when he adds, "I've got warm blankets."

She snorts at that, a little. "I bet you do."

And when he looks at her, there's no fear this time. It's just Fitz, she realises. _Just Fitz_. All half-broken and stronger and genius-engineer-nerd as ever. Looking at her like she's just her, like she's... _worth saving_.

So she steps forward. Slowly. "You... sure?"

He gathers his blanket and scoots over, giving her more space, nodding his head rather embarrassingly. "Y-yes." He answers while she forwardly moves, knees dipping into the mattress, before, with a firmer conviction: "Yes," his one hand already extended to seemingly catch her.

(She'd laugh at how easily it seems when she carelessly falls into his arms if she isn't too disturbed.)

"Keep you safe, remember?" he tells her, breath against the top of her head when their bodies are pressing against one another; her one hand rests on his chest, nearly gripping on his shirt as he settles them both, correcting the blanket around their hips. "Skye, it's okay."

"I can't stop thinking about it."

"I know."

"It happened so _quickly_."

"Skye. It's happened. You can't turn back time."

"I'd like to."

He doesn't answer to that. Not that she expects him to.

"Fitz?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For... for being there."

He's silent for a bit, then: "Anytime."

"You're always the... _better_ one, you know?" She glances at him a bit and watches as his eyes catch hers. "You... always had my back."

He smiles, and Skye feels her heart lightens, her skin loosens while his thumb rubs circles down the side of her arm in an act to soothe, to comfort. He says, "That's because you always had mine."

"And I'd keep you safe too, you know. I would."

"I know." He tells her softly, nodding. "We'll deal with it, Skye. Together. Like we always do."

"Yeah," she closes her eyes and leans in, "Together. I like the sound of that."

She stays.

 


End file.
